Had dimly shone on Albion’s happier plains!
Now, in the southern hemisphere, the sun,
Through the bright Virgin, and the Scales, had run,
And on th’ ecliptic wheeled his winding way
Till the fierce Scorpion felt his flaming ray.
Four days becalmed the vessel here remains,
And yet no hopes of aiding wind obtains;
For sickening vapours lull the air to sleep,
And not a breeze awakes the silent deep:
This, when th’ autumnal equinox is o’er,